oOo
Ch 2 Ruler
oOo
John
When Rodney went on his first off world mission with Sheppard's new team, his pack had been so heavy that the scientist had staggered through the stargate, bowed over like an old man. John had quickly called a halt and yanked it from McKay's back, none too gently. Ripping it open, he first peered inside and then began throwing out most of what Rodney had carefully placed in there.
He ignored McKay's splutters of protest.
"You can pick it up on the way back."
Rodney had looked mournfully at the pile of discarded items: Most of it was extra food, but there was also a fluffy pink towel, several metal spoons, a large box of toothpicks, a mirror, no less than four graphic novels and a very old wooden ruler.
John's face twisted into a puzzled look, as he held up the ruler...
"Why...?"
"My lucky ruler...? Because I may need to measure something, what do you think?... also, it's useful..."
"How?"
Rodney snatched it from him and after flinging his arm up, brought the ruler down between his shoulder blades.
"... for scratching my back..."
Rodney paused with the stick raised, as if in deep thought, then...
"..it's also pretty good as a shoe horn." and he twirled it around briefly before he stuck out his right heel and poked the piece of wood down between foot and boot. McKay froze like that, with his left arm out, for balance.
Sheppard just stared. Ford and Teyla regarded McKay blankly, very much as they might watch the antics of a lunatic.
Demonstration now over, he whipped the ruler from his boot, waggled it at them...and then indicated his pile of belongings.
"For emergencies, you know? Never can tell what you might need..."
"What possible emergency calls for tooth picks?"
As Rodney huffed and hauled his lighter pack up and onto his back again, he turned to glare at John.
"A tooth emergency, I guess...", was the petulant reply.
Turned out that McKay obediently left his stuff on the ground that day, but took the ruler; and, as far as John knew, he'd had it in his pack every mission since - along with a truck load of superfluous crap that had somehow found it's way back in.
Occasionally he had seen the lucky ruler, usually laid carefully on one side as the scientist rummaged for something he had misplaced, but sometimes he'd seen it used to chase down a stubborn itch, and had watched McKay's rapturous expression as he raked it across his back.
Seeing it here and now, though, poking from a ragged sleeve, brought John up sharply, as he recognised it immediately as being the property of one Canadian scientist.
A kind of trail wound its way through the ruins, where the ground was clear and uncluttered, and it was this that John had been following; he hoped that Rodney had been swept along this trail and he would eventually meet up with his wandering friend.
He had come a good way past the burned man, having left him in the care of the now advancing rescue teams; Sheppard wondered if, somewhere up ahead, McKay was also being taken care of.
He had seen the white flag of the standard issue bandages first. Then, as he jogged closer, he saw Rodney's lucky charm, splinting the forearm of a young man in a lab coat.
Looking pale and sweaty, the man, who was probably in his early twenties, was lying on his back, spreadeagled, with his left arm and shoulder pinned by a heavy piece of steel. Other pieces of metal were lying around, their edges twisted and curled, as if a machine had exploded outwards. He was lying in a muddy puddle of what looked like water and oil. The remains of some kind of generator lay behind the fragments of metal.
It was to the right arm that the ruler had been lashed; not elegantly done by any means, but the binding looked secure.
He must be close now...
Sheppard once again scanned around...
"You are looking for someone...", came a weak voice.
Sheppard knelt quickly, ignoring the wet ground.
"Help's coming.", he said and laid his hand on a shivering shoulder.
He almost smiled as he noticed for the first time the pink bulk supporting his head... McKay's towel.
"One dressed in the same manner as you, set my arm..." the young man's eyes slid shut, and John had to lean close to hear, "Not long ..."
"Which way?"
Unable to signal by any other method, the man raised his wet head and jerked weakly towards the left.
John whispered a 'thankyou' to the now unconscious man, and then jumped up.
"Hey! Here! Someone's trapped here!" he shouted over his shoulder.
He waited until he was sure that a team was on their way, and then he took to the path once more.
oOo
Rodney
He had a stomach ache, a stitch in his side... was it hunger? He couldn't remember when he had last eaten. Not that he could have eaten anything right now, with the smells of death all around him.
It was hot; the sun was bright, and if he'd had the energy he would have taken off his jacket. He felt like he'd been wandering through this derelict landscape all his life. Maybe he'd cracked his head back there, because he was having trouble stringing two thoughts together.
Smoke was rising, in some places quite thickly, and he wondered what was burning... how all this had happened... whether it had been deliberate or accidental... if it -
He stopped suddenly, just in time to avoid stepping on the body in front of him. A man, dressed in white - or what had been white but was now dirtied and gray - lay flat on his back, his clothes soaked through with dirty water.
Dropping to a crouch, McKay found a neck pulse, and took a closer look.
His arm was exposed, the sleeve rolled up, and Rodney guessed the man had used his teeth to accomplish that, immobilised as he was. The arm was discoloured... blotched in red and purple, and the hand white and limp. But the most disturbing thing, was that the contours of the limb were all wrong; as if badly drawn by an artist, the outline that should have been smooth and curved was now angular and deformed.
Even Rodney could tell; it was broken.
Brown eyes flickered open... and locked onto his, desperation evident..
"I'm a healer... a surgeon. I cannot feel this hand." and he looked askance at the dead-looking limb."You have to pull out the step in the bone, and then I will feel... and all will be well."
His other arm, Rodney had seen immediately, was pinned by a metal beam from the shoulder down.
"What about...?", and Rodney could only indicate with a bob of the head, the limb that was obviously trapped.
The doctor looked away, then said in a tight but determined voice.
"It is my right hand that I can save... the left...", and his next breath caught, "the left, I will not think of now."
The beam was huge... no way was it moveable without lifting equipment. One arm broken, one arm buried and probably broken. Injuries that would be devastating to a surgeon. The poor guy knew it, too, Rodney thought. The young doctor had pain written across his pinched face, but there was also a fear that Rodney could identify with; how to live when your reason for living has gone.
Rodney looked around him, trying to locate the med teams he knew should be arriving by now.
"Please.. you must do it now, or it will be in vain."
"I-I can't... I'm not a doctor... not your kind, anyway... I'll find someone...", Rodney stammered and made to rise.
"No! Please.. you must do this now... I beg you..."
McKay looked at the arm, at the man and lastly down at his own two hands. He dropped his pack, knelt quickly and sighed,
"Alright.What do I do?"
"Hold at the elbow.. yes, like that.. now, the wrist... I will try to control the angle and the force, but you will have to hold my wrist while I pull back."
Well, he was ready... grasping at the elbow and the wrist, he watched the young man shift slightly, and then with a cry he pulled himself to the left, effectively popping out the misplaced bone. Rodney could feel it shift and scrape, as he pressed down, trying to keep the hand still.
As the doctor fell back exhausted, Rodney was amazed to feel a change in the hand he was holding...
It was warming up.
A smile lit Rodney's features, "It worked! How does it feel?"
The doctor wore his own grin, and panted, "It is agony... and I thank you for it."
Rodney thought for a moment, and then snapped open his pack.
"Here...", and he gently raised the man's head with one hand and slipped in the makeshift pillow with the other.
Next he settled back on his heels, pulled over the pack and began rummaging for supplies; he would need a splint of some kind and more bandages...
He brightened... he knew exactly what to use as a splint...
oOo
TBC and thanks for your reviews... they do make a difference!